Making Choices (Black Shamrocks MC Book 2) (17 page)

When the Mavericks pissed all over the code, they declared themselves enemy number one in Australian outlaw circles and had been tossed into biker wilderness. All deals suspended. All support for their trade routes removed.

“I swear that’s the word on the street, Mad Dog. I wouldn’t fuck the Shamrocks over. I’m a friend of the Club. I only ran because I was scared they’d kill me. I’m not supposed to know about your women,” Tony pleads, his expression frantic as he tries to crab crawl on his tiptoes away from an advancing Mad Dog.

I know my childhood best friend almost as well as I know myself, so I don’t need to see his face to know that Tony’s now looking at Mad Dog, not Mik Kennedy.

We may call him Mad Dog all the time, but he’s not always him. He has two distinct sides to him. One side being the cheeky little fucker who shit stirs constantly; the second is dark, violent, and volatile. Considering Maddi’s the only one who can talk him down when he’s Mad Dog, Tony’s right to be shit scared.

“So tell me then, friend, why you didn’t come to us when you heard this? Tell me why the fuck a friend of the Shamrocks knows information like this, and doesn’t fucking warn us.” Mad Dog grabs Tony by his fat face and glares into his eyes.

“Tell me how you heard this since you say you’re the Shamrocks’ friend, which
should
make you an enemy of the fucking Mavericks?”

He pushes Tony’s face away, stalking over to the table where our clothes are piled.

“I’m waiting, Tony. Enlighten me.”

Tony’s mouth opens and closes, his grotesque body shaking as he tries to find the answers Mad Dog wants without implicating himself. I shake my head when his bladder lets go—again—in fear.

Thank fuck for Prospects. I’m not cleaning up this fucking mess.

“I’ve been dealing some ice on the side. The Mavericks hooked me up with it, and I heard them talking about forcing your Club to broker peace when I was there for a pick-up last week.”

Reaching into his pile of clothes, Mad Dog grabs his 9mm, and walks back to Tony.

Once he’s facing him, he places the barrel between his eyes.

“Thank you for telling us the truth,
friend
,” he sneers at Tony, who turns white and shakes harder when he grasps what’s coming. “But we don’t need friends like you.”

“Mad Dog, please,” Tony stutters.

“Have fun in hell.”

He pulls the trigger.

Tony’s body jerks wildly as the bullet rips through his head, his brain matter splattering from the back of his head due to the point-blank trajectory.

Fuck, yeah. That’s how it’s done.

My best friend stares at the mess in front of him for a long moment before he turns to me.

His normally bright eyes are dark, his face filled with violence that needs an outlet.

“Call in Smoke and his men. Get hold of Kid and Butch as well. We have a visit to pay.”

He names the three officers we know will agree to a side job without questions—or letting Beast know what’s up. Smoke’s my right-hand Enforcer, Kid’s our Information Officer, and Butch is our Road Captain. He also happens to be Maddi’s maternal uncle. Smoke is his son, while Kid grew up with her and her brothers. Maddi being missing is much more personal for them than our usual Club business.

I make the calls and arrange a place to meet.

All three agree without hesitation.

Once we’re dressed, we flick off the lights in the bunker, and head for our bikes.

Mad Dog holds his fist out to me as we start our bikes, and I bump it with mine.

Grinning like a maniac at the vengeance I find in his eyes, my pulse spikes.

I’m thinking more than one traitor is gonna die tonight.

JJ

Present Day

“H
onestly! There’s no need to be so rough,” I protest as I’m shoved into the back of a vehicle. My legs are wobbly which makes me clumsy and slow to move how they want me to. An anxiety attack is stalking me, brought on by my memory of the last time my Daddy used his belt on me. If only I had listened to him, then I wouldn’t be in this situation now.

“Ouch.” I wince as I hit my elbow on something hard. In addition to my jelly legs, I can’t see a thing because they tied a length of rough material around my face before they led me from the house I was being held in.

The house that Maddi’s still being held in.

Part of me feels as if I should refuse to leave her on her own, but the bigger—more selfish—part refuses to let it win. I’m out of here, and I’m ecstatic. I’ll find Mad Dog and Lucas and pass on Maddi’s message, but after that, I’ve decided that I’m done. Heading to the police station to report the maniacs who grabbed us is next on my itinerary, and once that’s done, I’m booking an appointment with the clinic to confirm my pregnancy and make the necessary arrangements.

Then I’m putting this whole sorry saga behind me.

All of it.

The pregnancy.

The ridiculous notion that I’m in love with Lucas.

And Lucas.

I’m putting him so far behind me that he’ll be barely a blip in my memory; merely a distant remembrance of the one time I let my hormones and emotions rule my common sense.

“Stop your whining.” A male voice—I think it is Connor—snaps at me, pushing me across the back seat, and then crowding me heavily against the door. The vehicle lurches forward, and I grab for the arm rest on the door as the vehicle turns sharply and accelerates at speed.

I’m not a religious person, but I mutter a quick prayer that I’ll survive this ride.

We aren’t driving for long when the sound of throbbing, pulsing motorcycles circles us.

Someone curses. “It’s the fucking Shamrocks.”

My heart jumps at the mention of Lucas’s Club. Help has finally arrived.

The vehicle accelerates, and I’m thrown against the door when the wheels screech as we take a sharp corner. Worry begins to flood through me that we’re going to outrun the motorbikes, my fear alleviated when the thunder of the motorcycles keeps pace with us.

To my excitement, I think it’s becoming louder.

Metal sliding against metal erupts near my ear. I’ve watched enough television to recognize the sound. It’s a handgun being loaded.

Twisting away from the sinister sound, I decide that I need my eyes.

Gathering my courage, I reach behind me and untie the blindfold, letting it drop into my lap.

I’m greeted by chaos.

We’re in a large SUV that’s surrounded by men riding Harleys.

Twisting in my seat, I can identify Mad Dog near the passenger-side front window with his gun pointed at the red-headed guy Maddi kneed in the balls earlier, another man on a bike flanking him with a gun in his hand as well. Lucas is on the driver’s side, slightly in front of where I am sitting with his gun pointed at the driver. I discover that it is Connor seated next to me.

His weight crushes me against the door as he leans over and presses the button for the electric window. The window starts lowering quickly, Connor aiming his gun at Lucas’s back. His finger is on the trigger, ready to squeeze.

I don’t take the time to think about my actions.

All I know is that Lucas is in danger.

Without acknowledging the potential repercussions, I throw my whole weight against Connor and jab him as hard as I can in the trachea with my fingertips. I’m not quick enough to stop him pulling the trigger, the booming resonance of the shot filling the vehicle. Connor slumps back in the seat and grabs his throat. I pay him no mind, too concerned with whether Lucas has been shot.

Peering out of the window, I can’t see him.

I can still see Mad Dog and the other rider, but there’s no sign of Lucas.

We’re driving along a deserted, windy road, and all I can see at the moment are the green trees on the side of the road whipping past us as we careen down the backroad.

My heart’s pounding, and vomit tries to choke me as my worry takes over.

If Lucas was shot and crashed his bike, he’ll need help.

He could be hurt.

I need to help him.

Bang. Bang.

Bang. Bang.

More shots are fired, hurting my ears, and vibrating through my head.

The car spins, and I brace myself against the door and the back of the driver’s seat.

We’re going to crash.

I’m not sure how many times the car turns, but it feels as if it continues for an eternity.

I’m dizzy, disorientated, and stunned when we come to an abrupt halt when the car hits a tree. My head slams against the driver’s seat and then the window, pain blooming upon impact. I can’t see for a moment, my eyesight filling with floating black spots.

My door is wrenched open.

I still can’t see properly, but I know that it’s Lucas, the bulk of the form I can barely make out, and his familiar scent, confirming what I can’t with my vision. He grabs me around the waist, swinging me like a child out of the car, his long stride quickly putting distance between the mangled vehicle and us.

“Fucking hell, Doll. You okay?”

He has me cradled like a bride against his heaving chest. Ice-blue eyes pierce my soul as his worry for me emanates from him. I begin to nod my head, but pain bursts in my temple and vomit rises into my mouth.

Slapping his chest as I clamp my mouth shut with my other hand, he regards me with bewilderment before he catches on to what I need. Lucas lowers me to my feet and holds me by the waist as I heave bile all over the ground in front of us. My empty stomach is convulsing, cramping pain gripping me with each spasm. He gathers my hair around his wrist so it doesn’t fall into my face, and rubs my back.

“Shhh, Doll. It’s okay. It’s just shock,” he soothes me as I continue retching.

It’s not
just
shock, but he doesn’t need to know that.

The sound of struggling erupts in the background, drawing our attention as the air fills with angry male voices. So many men—all of them cursing in loud voices. As my stomach finally settles down, Lucas passes me a bottle of water. I swill it around my mouth, spitting it on the ground as we watch a van pull onto the side of the road near the wrecked SUV.

Lucas wraps his arms around me, pulling me hard against him as four men pile out of the back of the van and start wrestling the three men who were in the SUV with me into the back of it. They all look much worse for wear than I am from the crash. I can see at least one broken limb, and they all have blood running down their faces from various cuts and gashes.

Mad Dog strides toward the pair of us, his face tight as anger billows from him, gravel crunching under his heavy boots.

His expression scares me. I step back into Lucas’s chest.

“Where the fuck is Lainey?”

He stops half a step in front of us. The full force of his rage is directed at me, making me seek further refuge in Lucas’s chest. He’s an intimidating man at the best of times, but seeing him like this is terrifying.

“Fucking back off, Mad Dog.”

Mad Dog growls at Lucas, balling his hands into fists and bouncing them off his thighs as he glares at him. Lucas doesn’t even flinch.

“Well?” Mad Dog’s tone is slightly less threatening.

Remembering Maddi’s message, and her warning about only telling Lucas and Mad Dog, I glance around us. We’re far enough from everyone else to talk without being overheard if we’re quiet.

Shifting in Lucas’s arms, I gesture with my head at Mad Dog.

He leans down toward me.

“Maddi’s still at the house we were being held in.” His face drops, Lucas’s arms tightening around me.

“She’s all right,” I continue quickly when I see his temper begin to build again. “She talked them into letting me go so I could find you two and pass on a message.”

“What fucking message?” Mad Dog throws at me in a tight voice.

“You can’t tell anyone else. I think she only wants you two to know.”

“All right. Just us. Now fucking spill.”

I pause briefly. I need to get the words exactly right. Maddi was very specific.

“The Beast is trying to marry the Princess to the Wizard to unite the kingdoms.”

“Say that again,” Lucas demands.

Mad Dog reacts like I’ve slapped him. His mouth hangs open, his eyes squinting at me under eyebrows that are nearly touching as he regards me with disbelief.

“She said to tell you that the Beast is trying to marry the Princess to the Wizard to unite the kingdoms.”

“Fuck. Two-Ton Tony was right. He just didn’t know the whole story.”

Turning in Lucas’s arms when he stops speaking, I ask, “Who is Two-Ton Tony?”

He shakes his head at me.
Oh, that’s right.
The unbreakable, never-ending code of silence that surrounds the Black Shamrocks is still in effect.

I glare at him, but he ignores me, looking instead at Mad Dog, who still hasn’t moved.

“Mad Dog?”

Mad Dog comes back from wherever he disappeared to in his head to question me.

“Can you describe the house, JJ?”

“I can’t, but I can help you find it.” I nod to myself as I think about it. “I didn’t see much because I had a blindfold on, but it wasn’t long after we made a sharp turn like we were turning onto a new road or leaving a driveway that you surrounded us on the motorbikes.”